This Strange Hour
by BeMerryEatCake
Summary: When Rima and Ikuto talk to each other for the first time, alone, and the conversation consists of really...nothing at all. "I never liked you." Rima said abruptly. "I still don't." Ikuto chuckled. "You think you're the first?" Under Revision.


**NOTE: I'm planning on re-writing some of this, changing up most of the beginning and ditching the wedding scene entirely. Plus, I'm going to be making either a prologue or epilogue to explain myself better. One reader pointed out many plot holes and what not in this, ones I should've seen beforehand myself...I posted it too quickly, didn't take as much time on it as I should've. So, if you're interested in this, or you happen to read it and like it, you might want to check back again to see the differences and such. **

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><p>"Wherever I go, whatever the distance that separates us...I will come for you. And when you grow up and become an adult, I promise I'll come back and find you."<p>

He meant that promise, every single word.

He just didn't see the girl he made the promise to leaving _him_, coming.

It's funny how life works.

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><p>He just lost his job.<p>

He was late on rent for the fifth time last month, tomorrow soon to be sixth and about to be kicked out. So he'd be homeless sooner or later.

He was single at age twenty-seven.

_The girl he loved hates him now._

He couldn't pay for his violin to be tuned.

_The girl he loved broke up with him three years ago and he still wasn't over it. _

He was hungry.

_The girl he loved was married now._

He wanted a drink.

_His heart was ripped in two. _

The room was cold. Or was that just him?

_It had been ever since she told him to leave and never come back. _

His shoes were still soaked from walking in the ran after the wedding.

_And Ikuto being himself...did just as she said._

The bar was nearly empty at this hour, one o'clock. Ikuto blinked unsteadily down at the cheap, black banded watch strapped loosely onto his wrist, forgetting how many 'just one more' drinks had been set in front of him and downed in the past two hours. He squinted at a nearby empty glass, wondering when he had finished it. Had it been five minutes ago? He blinked a few more times, trying to stop his vision from shifting to and fro like a camera being manned by an inexperienced tourist. Finally, he figured closing his eyes would work better than forcing his body to cease reacting to the poison taking hold in his blood steam and wreaking hell on his mind.

It burned in the core of his body, making him feel out of control of everything. He didn't really like the sensation one damn bit. Ikuto sat there, still as stone, counting the seconds as his throat burned from the most recent alcohol splurge. He guessed the last drink was recent from the pain in his esophagus. Ikuto wasn't the type to drown his pathetic sorrows into the abyss and wash them away with a temporary river of liquor. He supposed it was an idiotic thing to do. But he couldn't stomach the thought of an innocent rosette girl being in the arms of another man tonight and feeling...dandy, to say the least. With the revolting image shattering his conscious self once again, Ikuto lips twitched into a slight grimace and his eyes lazily slip open under the low toned lights. He pulled slightly at his already loosened collar, resulting in his black tie falling right into his lap. But he didn't much care.

He'd put up with wearing a restricting suit for a man he considered as a brother. The tie...it took some convincing from Tadase for sure. Although, he put no such effort into trying to look nice on the outside. He left any stray stubble on his face and refused to gel back his hair and put any crap in it at all. Kukai had done exactly so by the demand of Utau, which wasn't a surprise considering his sister was a she-demon when it came to her demands. The first thing he saw coming into the chapel was his sister and the normally grinning maniac Kukai's more or less PDA displayed to the extreme in the hall leading to the creaking old pews.

They were last in the line to enter before the bride.

Though, that wasn't on his lists of things to sight see earlier that day. He'd disregarded them both being love struck airheads without comment, only clearing his throat the final step he took to get around. The couple broke apart in a heartbeat, Utau the only one with the decency to blush full out. Kukai was very mildly embarrassed with a familiar scratching of the back of his head. Ikuto didn't say anything of course, and his expression was bored looking as ever. Utau shot him a quick look, slight disbelief crossing over her violet eyes with his appearance at the event of Tadase and Amu's wedding. Concern was one emotion that rippled on her features for the fraction of a second, but it was gone from Ikuto's attention as he met beside Rima, who was waiting almost at the front of the line now to enter with him on his arm. She sent him a withering glare, her soft baby blue bride maids dress so big and filled with ruffles it displayed her doll-like form even more. A soft melodic tone was playing gently in the background from the open doorway leading to where he would take his place soon enough.

"Could you be any more late?" she asked dryly, yanking his arm forcefully into her grasp. Ikuto didn't much appreciate the abrupt gesture and sarcasm.

He straightened, casting her a lazy glance himself. "Do you want me to try next time?"

She didn't answer, maybe because it was their turn to enter, but he guessed it was actually due to her being too pissed off from his reply. In just around two minutes of walking in tensioned silence they both separated, Ikuto going to stand by Tadase and play the part of best, 'happy for you' man and Rima to Amu's side to endure the sight of her ex-boyfriend appearing next in line with another one of Amu's close friends he didn't bother to remember the name of.

The entire time of standing with his hands indecently in his pockets, showcasing to about a hundred people at the least that he wasn't concerned with public courtesy, Ikuto was sick to his stomach. It didn't show on his face. Nothing ever managed to slip onto his features openly. Possibly a select few times he could recall, but those memories all consisted of a girl who could dig easily under his skin and get him to say the things he kept inside right out. He stood there like a piece of cold ice that never melted. The long line of bridesmaids and groomsmens was a mind numbing procession that seemed to never end. But he stayed put with will power he in no way believed he could muster, thinking ever since that day Tadase confronted Ikuto for a blessing for his engagement to Amu Hinamori, that he couldn't come to their wedding and act completely normal.

In the past, so very long ago, he had challenged the kiddy king. An arrogantly placed unspoken dare he assumed wouldn't ever be defied and broken to earth-shattering pieces. Tadase had told Ikuto he wouldn't give up, at a wedding too no less. Why was everything connected to pointless celebrations about love?

Ikuto didn't walk out on the marriage ceremony as he thought he would, unable to handle the sight of Amu, who had refused to speak to him for years. Years he wasted and spent wallowing in self pity while ultimately failing at life. But he easily stayed frozen right behind Tadase, who made polite conversation to diffuse the awkward air slowly settling in between them both since something with the dress had momentarily gone wrong, and five minutes were needed to mend the situation. It was obvious the blond was nervous. But that was expected, it was Tadase after all. Yet, Ikuto couldn't help but notice the happiness that surrounded the young man. It exuded from his gentle smiles and shined out of his crimson eyes like a steadily rising sun over a steep hill. She would be taken good care of with this boy

This same boy who had beaten him badly and completely in the end.

It appears it's true. Ikuto had mused as the bride appeared in her all white glory at the end of the church. The good guys do win.

Her hair was curled to perfection, her face clear as day and lips painted a soft pink. Those two honey pools were so big and wide, appearing much more relaxed and without a trace of stress than he remembered from the last night she had spoken to him directly. Her smile was broad and purely, unmistakably, happy.

She was beautiful.

When Amu glanced over to Ikuto, her eyes had just as quickly left him as if he were a lone boring vase in the room. But after that, her smiles seemed less bright and more wobbly. It seemed as if Amu had no idea that Ikuto had been invited also and that she wasn't too pleased with this fact. She never looked back towards his direction again during the minister's talk, not even when she was faced with her husband-to-be and forced to meet the direction Ikuto was standing in head on. Her eyes were focused solely on Tadase, who hadn't taken any notice of Amu's shift in attitude. The words from the preacher were spoken as slowly as they could possibly be it seemed to Ikuto. He watched with blank eyes as the rings were brought up by a five year old boy, the son of Amu's much older cousin Shuu, and didn't even smile as other adults cooed and laughed quietly at his toddling towards the bride and groom.

In moments Tadase was proclaiming vows and putting the ring on her finger. Both of them laughed along with the guests as Tadase had trouble making it fit correctly. Then came Amu's part to agree and doing the exact same to her almost husband.

Ikuto was surprised to find her eyes leveled cleanly onto his own as she was asked the same question to answer. "I do," she spoke, barely high enough to reach the farthest rows. Tears shined in her eyes as she tore her gaze away from Ikuto and looked back at her new husband, smiling and laughing to reassure that everything was fine.

The minister beamed with both arms wide. "I now give you Mr. and Mrs. Hotori!"

And then the kiss.

Just like that, she was not a Hinamori anymore.

She was not the little Amu that he could visit so effortlessly and expect no trouble.

She was not that same girl that would blush from his comments.

She was not a girl who struggled to be herself.

She was not his.

She was Amu Hotori.

A woman who he didn't know anymore.

A woman he could not hold.

A married woman.

Without consent, without a care in the world, Ikuto dispersed into the chaos of the crowd as people readied themselves to leave. He was the first to go. Out of a side door that was invisible to the public eye, not on Rima's arm for the second expected time. He ended up walking for hours and hours on end, to nowhere, absolutely no destination was inside his head away from the church. His heart felt like a rock that had dropped clean to his stomach, his tie like a chain that was tethering him to normal life, a sickeningly plain wedding. He felt outside of all of the joy and celebrating, he just couldn't connect with all the delight and stupid bliss of all the people there. And that final look Amu had given him.

As if she said:

There, now I can finally forget about you. Forever.

It shot into his chest, clean though like a led bullet. Did she really have to make the final death blow so painful? He hadn't been expecting it. The pain. It had begun trickling that morning and collected all throughout his mindless trek later on, until he had finally wandered into a bar on the streets of a neighboring town of Seiyo that was just a bit bigger. Not by much. But big enough to have its own place for poor drunkards to collect. Even now, while a slow buzz of alcohol ate away in his head and entire body, he could feel the thrum of pain zigzagging throughout his nerves. It bit, scratched, kicked and punched everywhere it could possibly reach. Whenever Ikuto downed another glass of liquor, it went away for awhile. He was beginning to understand why people did this to themselves. To numb their troubles for just a while longer so they didn't have to live with it.

A fleeting solution to his problems that he wanted to let go...but couldn't.

Oh, what would his mother say to this? Ikuto raised his hand to the bartender in a half-hearted attempt to gather his attention without words, giving a weak wave to send a newly filled cup his way. It doesn't matter anyway, he was old enough to get away with enormous amounts and he wouldn't be driving home since he walked here. Least he had a few morals in tact. The glass was placed with a soft plink before him, and Ikuto reached for it, wanting a taste of the numbness and not much of the flavor from the drink immediately. He could sense the hurt coming back full force, the igniting flame of failure hurling at him inside.

He deserved this, he knew. Amu ought to have a guy who is reliable and counted on to be there for her every waking hour. Every single minuteâ€¦

But just as his fingers grazed the smooth sides, another hand swooped in and snatched it from him.

The nails were neat, the hand small and delicate, the skin tone a frail white. Ikuto looked up, trying to focus on the shape that kept moving back and forth without his consent.

"I never pegged you for the stupid, brainless drunk type," a quiet, mocking tone bit at his ears.

The face of Rima Mashiro appeared, now steady in his sights. She was sitting closely beside him, bridesmaid dress still on but her hair was now loose around her shoulders. It tumbled down her back in a long blonde wave of elegant curls, complimenting her oval face nicely. She looked less cold with her hair free from its clips and ties it had been done up in at the wedding. But her voice was still 'you're a moron' infested.

Ikuto didn't say anything back for a while, wondering faintly why such a girl was here of all places.

"Me either."

Rima's golden eyes sidled to his now turned away face, slightly caught off guard from his indirect agreement with her insult. Her fingers uncurled around her shoes in her left hand and they fell to the hardwood floor with a loud clack.

She sniffed, looking down at the beverage she had stolen from him. "There was liquor there, at the reception you know."

He scratched absently at his cheek. "Didn't want it."

The silence, it should've been uncomfortable. But Ikuto found himself in one of those rare bouts of quiet that fit right into the puzzle of air. Rima continued to stare at the drink as if it were something despicable and vaguely annoying.

"You made me look like an idiot, Tsukiyomi." Her tone was now cross, different from its usual indifference that was always sardonic in some strange way. "I was left there to walk back down the aisle by myself since you decided to leave early. They all looked at me like I ruined the whole wedding."

"Oh?" Ikuto offered up monotonously.

The glower she gave him could have frozen the blazing sun. "Believe it or not, there's other people besides yourself to worry about."

Ikuto tried to will back the thunderous pounding in his head. "Hm."

"Of course," she muttered. "You, the guy who doesn't care about anyone, would reply with a syllable."

"Why didn't you walk with Nagihiko then?" he asked bluntly, without thinking, Ikuto might have come off as just a tad frustrated, but that was only because of his quickly spurring headache attacking him with every angle at the moment.

Her face shuddered ever so slightly into that emotion all girls had when men said stupid things they never realized could sting so badly. But then it was cut off and snapped shut into her placid chilly aired self as she sat there quietly, unmoving.

"Sorry," he said after the seconds sunk in. Ikuto did mean the apology, sorely recognizing his poorly selected words.

"It's fine," she answered quietly, her expression giving nothing of her inner thoughts. It was most likely that exact fact the two had never spoken just to each other before. They both had issues with sharing emotions and being 'sensitive' to other's consoling, never asking indirectly to be saved from mild depression or anger from a long face. But Amu, not once had she had difficulty in reaching out to Ikuto in the shroud of darkness and holding his hand like he was a little boy again.

"...not once," he mumbled into his palm.

Rima glimpsed at Ikuto again with irritation. "If you weren't covering your mouth, maybe I could hear what you say once in a while. But that's also hard considering you speak in mumbles."

Somewhat unpleasant she was, Ikuto concluded from her slighting tone. It was new and different in a way he didn't mind at all. Talking to a not-so-nice girl once in a while was fun, inside the strange whacked mentality that was his own. The two despicable individuals of the old group of friend's who didn't worry about any other in the world besides themselves now, utterly alone, dumped out into the cold by the people they loved much too much. How tragically poetic. Getting involved with the opposite sex always leads to heart break, it seemed.

"It's cold," Ikuto spoke plainly.

Rima gave a light snort, one that was unbelievably fine in sound. "No shit." She instantly perked at the word that had slipped from her tongue, and swallowed with reddening cheeks. "Excuse me...that was impulsive."

"Aren't we all?" he questioned listlessly, eyeing the alcoholic beverage she had taken hostage. Ikuto wasn't looking for a response, he never did want one. But Rima continued talking like she just couldn't help it, as if some poorly structured dam had broken, and he was the place the water was all rushing to escape at and fill with its dreary depths.

She trailed a finger around the top of the glass. "The party sucked. Everyone apparently could not dance, and my toes were murdered after Yaya dragged me around for an hour introducing me to a bunch of Tadase's family members."

Ikuto's lips titled very lightly into a smile, one that threatened to slink away almost immediately. "Sounds fun."

She smiled back with a weak sigh. "Doesn't it?"

Rima's humor faded as the seconds dripped by in the sudden pause. Her lips thinned out and her fingertip stopped winding around and around as she looked down into the pure dark liquid with empty eyes.

"She was happy you came."

A statement meant for his ears only.

Ikuto didn't believe it for a moment. He stared at his watch, expressionless. A quarter past one. The air was dry and chilly in here, and probably wreaking havoc on her recently soaked skin. She didn't come in with an umbrella, so it must be drizzling outside more than storming as it was previously when he had arrived. Ikuto shrugged off his top suit and handed it over to her without a glance.

She raised a brow. "What makes you think I want that?"

He grimaced as another wave of nausea hit him in straight in the gut. "Humor me."

Rima did, although with some reluctance. Her mouth set into a displeased pout as she gathered it around her shoulders. "You smell like wet dog."

"Not cat?" He threw out weakly, recalling all the times Amu had compared him to one.

Rima pondered the inquiry briefly. "...cats don't stink."

"Ah."

"I always wanted a cat," She said distantly.

Ikuto widened the tie around his neck, letting the two ends fall onto his front undone. "Why didn't you ever get one?"

She sniffed, her features vacant of any such sad emotion she was feeling inside. "He was allergic." The bypass of the mysterious man's name who had lived with her in the apartment was obviously the indigo haired dancer, and none other.

"Freeloader," Ikuto muttered. He couldn't help the comment.

She rolled her eyes, picking off some lint from her thin shoulder strap that led to a multitude of complicated zigzags on her back. "Oh, and you weren't? All men are hopeless without women."

"Some," he agreed after a slow pause.

Rima smiled lightly again, humored with his laid back response. "You're not the argumentative type."

"Doesn't help a conversation."

Rima leaned her head against her hand, balancing her elbow gently on the counter. Her eyes now flashed with some far ago memory as her voice grew wistful. "Nor relationships..."

Her words hung in the air, sinking gradually into Ikuto's mind and not fully clicking until he remembered Amu mentioning Rima's parent's divorce. Fighting, life's dilemmas. The same reasons Amu left him too. Although, she was always the one to instigate and bring up problems. Those little troubles that didn't bother him in the least is what seemed to ruin her life entirely. And he just wanted her to be happy.

So, he tried to mend her life by giving up on the love they had. Something he didn't know if he regretted or wish he could've avoided completely.

"Never relationships," Ikuto repeated quietly.

They sat there, together, in that strange silence. Ikuto didn't imagined himself wallowing away in pity with a girl he had barely ever spoken to, let alone one-on-one, today. He didn't find it odd though...not at all. It might have been a minute, maybe five, when Rima took the glass that was Ikuto's and downed it in one instant. She slammed it down, her eyes defiant and hard while she coughed rather hard and he supposed, painfully.

He slid the cup away from her, amused more than concerned. "You alright?"

She cleared her throat, swallowing multiple times to get the itching and burning to disappear, tears pricking at the corners of her eyes. "Fine -" She coughed once again, loudly. "..._I'm_ _fine_."

He smirked at her rasped voice. "You sure about that?"

Rima didn't glare this time, she actually laughed right out. "Shut up you a-as-ass!" And thus the hacking ensued further in the bar as they were the only two left. The bartender looked up from polishing at the far end of the long counter, squinting in the bad lighting at the both of them.

Ikuto yawned. "Oh darn, I think he's discovered that you're underage."

Instead of huffing over his picking at her height, Rima played along. "Looks like you'll be arrested for giving intoxicants to a minor."

"Looks like you'll be charged for theft."

The owner of the place began to walk over to Ikuto and Rima, rubbing at his right eye the whole way and looking quite puzzled. He was broad shouldered under closer inspection and not very friendly looking it seemed as he didn't look amused with the two lone straggling customers. The man gave the young adults a once over, a wet washrag hanging from his left hand, dripping all over the floor behind the counter.

"I'm about to close up. You might want to head on home now," he said gruffly with half-lidded eyes, hazy from lack of sleep. He watched Rima closely for a few seconds, as if assessing her age from her small frame and evident short height on the stool. They'd soon get pointless trouble if this staring contest didn't end soon. Ikuto shoved some money on the counter to dangle before the annoyed bartender's eyes, grabbing Rima's wrist to make their departure swift and quickly forgotten. She held tight to the top jacket he had given her with her free hand. The girl made a displeased sound at being yanked from her seat but didn't argue as they made their way towards the exit and out of the stuffy room. The crunch of gravel assaulted their ears as Ikuto swung the door open with a innocent chime from the bell above them both.

The slab of wood slammed shut and they were left in complete darkness. A lone flickering street light showered an eerie yellow glow that barely lit up their features to one another, and Ikuto could still feel her cool smooth skin under his hand surprisingly. He'd been expecting her to pull from his grip immediately, upset with his dominant actions.

"My shoes," she spoke simply, and his mistake became suddenly clear. Ikuto glanced downwards, running his eyes over her bare toes as she curled them away from the sharp pointy rocks that started after the smoother gravel near the door. The unemployed violinist turned back to open the door again, but his hand stilled against the knob as he heard the sharp click of a lock being put to work.

They could possibly go around to the back to intercept the owner, or knock as hard as they dared to garner his attention. Ikuto raised his fist, not too happy with actually having to put forth effort for the fancy heels but feeling sort of bad for not being more careful. Rima reached with her free hand, feathering her fingers on his own to still his yet to be made decision.

"Leave them." She shook her head. "They were my cousin's hand me downs and very ugly."

She was very close to him, he could feel wisps of hair tickling his cheek and her faint heat mingling with his own. Her being so near made thoughts he shouldn't be having trickle in and bombard his mind like a stack of falling cards; one after another. He could smell her perfume, it was extremely faded from so many hours that had passed, but still there in the rainy, humid air. It was lilacs, the scent his mother used to adorn. Ikuto forced his attention on the sea of perilous, and soaked, gravel leading to the flat concrete parking lot where he assumed her vehicle was.

Least it wasn't raining anymore.

Ikuto let his hand fall with hers to his side, not at all surprised to find their fingers intertwined at the end of the drop. He'd intended it that way. Not for direct romantic purposes, but to lead her closer to him. Rima's expression questioned him mutely, but he didn't utter a word. Ikuto winded an arm around her waist, steering her against his chest more tightly.

"Put your feet on top of mine," he said calmly to her completely baffled look.

Rima wasn't amused. "Are you joking? I haven't done this since I was five. When my father led me out of the kitchen after I broke a plate."

"You're the one who said 'leave them'. Would you rather cut your feet?" he asked, expecting her disgruntled pouting and knowing full well she would give in. Seconds later, she did exactly that. He guessed her little hop onto his poor toes was intentional, but was a little surprised to find how little pressure he received. Probably because she was small boned. But he found it slightly funny that she felt no heavier than a seven year old. Ikuto grabbed her other hand effortlessly as she began to totter unsteadily backwards, interlocking his fingers around her much tinier ones with ease as he had done before.

Ikuto began to lift one foot, almost knocking her off as she didn't follow sweet. "I thought you did this before..."

She gave him a look just short of death, not pleased. Rima had to angle her neck so far back, it was a comical sight as she met his eyes with her own in obvious difficulty. "I have." A hiss from her lips. "You're supposed to do that up and down thing -" Her voice cut sharply off as her cheeks stained a pale red from the glance Ikuto had given her. It was almost unnoticeable, the color on her face in such shadowy surroundings. But he saw it nonetheless and was humored even more.

"Oh? Like steps, one, two..."

She dug her nails into his hand purposefully to stop his belittling tone. "Arrogant little..." Her voice got too low for Ikuto to hear clearly, but it was obvious the next word would have reached much less polite terms than the other ones. They both stood there in their strange embrace for a while, one amused, the other indignant and angry.

Ikuto cleared his throat, startling the embarrassed Rima.

"Up," he said dully.

They both picked up their feet, stumbling a bit with the first. Despite her soured mood, Rima giggled with this meager attempt. It went on and on like that against the unstable gravel and bits of rock, and they gradually improved every few amateur steps that were made. In that moment, with the streets mute of cars and people, with no one to yell at them for blocking the lot and being total idiots; Ikuto felt almost at peace. For this short amount of time with a person who was just as wicked as he was on the inside, about everything that had ever really happened that day slipped his mind.

Finally, shockingly, they made it to the parking lot in one matching piece. Rima stepped off without being asked to and untwined her fingers from his bit by bit, until she let her arms fall to their designated sides again.

She stared up at him, contemplative and soundless with her piercing golden eyes. He put his hands inside his pockets, willing away those pesky voices egging him on to give into mindless male temptations and made a move to turn away and disappear from the scene altogether.

"Wait," she said. And he listened. Rima reached up to pull the tie's loose ends in her nimble hands, winding them together, curious. "Hopeless." She remarked under her breath and began to redo it completely back together again, as it had been at the wedding. After a minute or two, she was finished and was pulling the knot upwards and gradually forcing him down.

"I never liked you." She said abrubtly. "Still don't."

He chuckled lowly. "You think you're the first?"

Rima blinked at him without a word in response to his question. "You're too tall." She gave a solid tug to the tie, forcing his face much nearer to her own. He could feel the air from her mouth against his skin at this proximity and that only made the warning signals go off in his head even louder. But he didn't stop himself from angling his head to the side as she stood up on her toes, as far as she could reach. In this little magical world that was their very own for one night that was all just coincidence, Ikuto gave in. Her lips met his in just one lingering heartbeat and he lost himself in it. He couldn't imagine it being because of the alcohol in his system, it might have been a theory, but he didn't believe that for a second.

He wanted this, and needed it just as much as her.

But he figured he should warn her first.

"I'll break your heart," he whispered with another kiss.

She smiled against his mouth and spoke in a murmur right back. "You think you're the first?"

Maybe, on this night with a girl who shared similar regrets, pains; he could forget his sorrow for a moment and just...for once...

_Live._

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><p><em>~Because these days aren't easy anymore.<em>

_Like they have been once before_

_These days aren't easy anymore~_

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><p><strong>Thanks for stopping by, and I hope you enjoyed it even if your fav pairing is Amuto. I suppose I might've made Tadamu fans happy, kind of? Bleh. I feel like this short story sucks. I wrote it to Why by Secondhand Serenade. It doesn't pertain to the oneshot much, but I just really like that song. If you want to listen to it while reading this, go right ahead. That's where the quote above is from. <strong>

**Ciao! :D **


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